


The Difference Between Us

by Longpig



Series: Growing Pains [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angry & Smol, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Drunken Confessions, Dysfunctional Family, First Kiss, First Meetings, Galra Grooming, Injury, Invasion of Privacy, Kid Fic, M/M, Mean Galras, Mother-Son Relationship, Oblivious Thace, Pining Lotor, Secret Crush, Stranded, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Thwarted Romance, Underage Drinking, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longpig/pseuds/Longpig
Summary: Lotor is transferred to a new class yet again; but this time there is something different about one of his classmates...





	1. Partners

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic Lotor would be about [the Galra equivalent of] 14, and Thace 16.

Lotor wasn’t sure if this was the fifth or sixth time he’d been transferred to a different class in the past year. After a certain point it wasn’t worth keeping track. This time the instructor had cited ‘incompatible skill levels,’ which was partly true, but mostly just safer and easier than having to explain to the Emperor that his son had stabbed the teaching assistant. _She had it coming, though._

Combat training was mandatory for all children of the Empire, however, and so he was moved yet again. His new section was made up largely of youths older than himself, more advanced students. He was glad to have a new challenge, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone decided they could make a name for themselves by taking the Emperor’s son down a peg, and then it would start all over again. Sooner or later they’d run out of places to transfer him, and then maybe he’d be left alone. Maybe.

His assigned sparring partner for the day was a much larger boy -- well, they were _all_ larger -- with long, pointed ear tufts. He had to be at least a few years older than Lotor; he even had a wispy ruff of fur on his neck, and a longer patch on his chin as well. He was quick for his size, but like most opponents, he underestimated Lotor’s speed and strength. Lotor danced out of his adversary’s reach, landing stinging blows whenever he overextended himself and his balance faltered. When he started showing signs of fatigue, he slipped in under his guard and launched himself upward, driving the hilt of his practice weapon into the other boy’s nose. The move lacked finesse, but it was effective. He dropped like a stone, letting his own sword fall to the ground beside him. Blood streamed out from between his fingers as he clutched at his face, swearing.

Lotor sheathed his weapon and walked off the training grid without waiting for the instructor to call the match. By the time the medic had looked the boy over, class would be adjourned anyway. The other students, still wrapped up in their exercises, paid him no attention as he watched from the sidelines. That suited him just fine. He was just finishing up packing his things, when he heard a heavy tread behind him.

“Hey kid.” His body stiffened, his grip tightening on the practice sword he’d been about to put away. _Really? The first fucking day?_ He spun around, weapon in hand. As he’d suspected, it was his erstwhile partner; but his posture was oddly non-threatening. He was even smiling; his teeth as white as the tape on his nose. Lotor narrowed his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, slowly.

“I think you broke my nose,” he said cheerfully. “That was really great!” Lotor could only blink at him, nonplussed. “I’m Thace,” he continued, and held out his hand. Lotor frowned at it for a handful of ticks before cautiously extending his own. He was certain this must be a trick of some kind, and his mind raced with counters to potential attacks; but Thace just clasped his elbow in a companionable greeting.

“Uh… hi,” he muttered, still suspicious.

“This is your first day, right? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Yeah. They moved me because I tried to kill the teacher.” He stuck out his chin defiantly, half daring Thace to say something about it, half wishing it would just make him go away. Instead, he just laughed.

“Well, that’s one way to get skipped ahead I guess!” Then, to Lotor’s surprise and horror, he clapped him on the shoulder with a huge clawed hand. “Wow, you’re a jumpy little thing,” Thace grinned when he flinched away.

“Don’t call me that,” Lotor hissed, his fingers tightening once more around the hilt of the sword.

“Whoah, sorry.” Thace held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture, then shrugged. “So, you wanna be partners again next time?”

“I… what?” He frowned at the other boy. _What is going on here?_ _What do you want?_

“You know? For class?” Thace smiled again.

“I mean… sure? I guess?” His hand dropped away from his weapon. He continued to scowl at Thace, trying to puzzle out his angle. It _had_ to be a trick. Maybe Thace was one of Sendak’s friends, and he’d put him up to this. Maybe he was hatching some kind of plan to get back at him for his nose. Or maybe he was just an idiot.

“Great! See you then, uh--”

 _"Prince Lotor!”_ He grimaced at the sound of the monitor’s grating voice. Behind Thace, Nartok was steaming across the training hall, head down like a charging morvon. Lotor turned away and stuffed the sword into his practice bag with the rest of his things. He could feel dozens of eyes on him, staring, mocking. He clenched his jaw, his face burning. He could imagine what they were thinking. _Oh look, here comes the Prince’s babysitter…_ “Come along, you’ll be late for your military history lesson,” the monitor huffed, grabbing him by the elbow.

“Let go of me!” he spat, and yanked his arm out of Nartok’s grasp. “I know the fucking way.” Fists balled at his sides, he stalked toward the exit before he could be admonished for his language on top of his truancy. As he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. Thace was standing where he had left him, looking like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. Lotor wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to look.

_Let’s see who still wants to be partners now._

\-----

Lotor sat on the deck with his back against the wall, glaring down at the floor to avoid having to acknowledge the others’ stares. The training hall was quieter than it had been the last time, and he was certain it was because the other students were all smirking and whispering behind their hands. He focused his attention on picking at a small area of chipped paint on the decking instead, only looking up occasionally to glance at the ticker on the wall. The sooner this class started, the sooner it would be over. He had worried the bare spot on the floor into a palm-sized patch when someone sat down beside him, dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. He looked up to see Thace there, smiling. He still had marks on his nose where the tape and splint had been, but it didn’t seem too bent out of shape -- not broken after all, then.

“Hey,” He said jovially. Lotor blinked at him, incredulous, but said nothing. Whatever Thace’s angle was, it seemed like he was committed to it, at least. “So,” he continued, undeterred, “you’re the Prince, huh?” Lotor looked down at the deck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “What’s _that_ like?”

“It sucks,” he replied sharply, without looking up. “People are always asking you stupid questions.” He’d hoped that would shut Thace down, but the other boy just laughed.

“So how come you’re stuck here with the rest of us peons?”

Lotor shrugged, irritated. “My father says it builds character for me to be around”-- _don’t say ‘real’--_ ”other Galra my own age.”

“Does it?” he sounded genuinely curious.

“Depends.” He looked askance at Thace, wary. “On how you define ’character’.” Mostly what it built, he’d found, was resentment. Thankfully, the instructor chose that moment to call the class to order, before Thace could ask anything else.

It seemed that Thace had learned from their previous session. He focused more on using his height, weight and reach against Lotor’s speed, making for a much more even match than the last one. By the end of the varga, he was exhausted, and smarting from the hits Thace had landed. It was oddly refreshing.

“Good match,” Thace said after time had been called, rubbing a new lump on his forehead. He offered his arm, and this time Lotor hesitated only briefly before returning the gesture.

“You too,” he said, grudgingly. “You’re better than I thought.”

“Well thanks, I guess,” Thace laughed, smirking.

Flustered, Lotor pulled his hand away. “I just mean… A lot of times, people are so set on making me look bad that they don’t concentrate on, you know, the actual fight.” He started stuffing his gear into his bag, avoiding Thace’s eyes.

“That seems… really dumb? Why would someone do that?”

“I don’t know! They just… they just do,” Lotor snapped, exasperated. He didn’t have the energy to explain it.

“Well that’s their loss,” Thace huffed, sounding indignant, “they’re not gonna learn anything that way,” Lotor looked up in disbelief, but he actually seemed sincere. _Why are you still here? Why are you talking to me? Why won’t you stop being so fucking nice?_

“Someone should tell that to Sendak and Haxus,” Lotor muttered under his breath, looking away again.

“Who?”

“Forget it,” he mumbled, shouldering his bag. “I have to go before Nartok shows up and yells at me.” The last thing he needed was his stupid monitor embarrassing him in front of everyone again. _In front of Thace,_ he thought, though he wasn’t sure why that should matter more.

\-----

The mess hall was more crowded than the last time he’d been here, and Lotor hoped that would make it easier to avoid trouble. He’d avoided the common dining area as much as possible since the last incident with Sendak, but he’d forgotten to pack his lunch before leaving, and by the afternoon he was so hungry he thought he might be sick. He picked up a tray of whatever chum they were serving today, chose a mostly-unoccupied bench in the far corner of the room, and hoped for the best. The stew was surprisingly palatable, if visually unappealing; or maybe he was just so famished that he didn’t care. He’d shovelled in half of it when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. Caught off guard, he tripped bolting out of his seat, armed only with a fork, and stumbled right into Thace’s broad chest.

“Hey kid, careful there.” Thace caught him by the elbows to steady him.

“Don’t--don’t sneak up on me!” Mortified, he wrenched himself out of Thace’s grasp. “And I’m not a fucking _kid!_ ” Still bristling, Lotor turned away from him and sat back down, staring balefully at his tray with his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his fists. The bench sagged slightly as Thace took the spot next to him.

“Sorry,” Thace offered affably. “I just don’t normally see you down here, so I thought I’d come say hello.”

“I don’t like coming here,” he said after a dobash, when it seemed apparent that Thace wasn’t going to leave. “Too many idiots.” Thace grinned crookedly, and had just opened his mouth to deliver a comeback, when Haxus sauntered up, as if on cue. _I must have caught his attention making an ass of myself with Thace_.

“Well, if it isn’t little Prince Half-blood,” came Haxus’ sneering voice. “So you’ve decided to grace us with your royal presence again, hmmm?”

Lotor got to his feet (more carefully this time), ready to fight. To his surprise, Thace loomed up next to him, towering over Haxus, the fur on the back of his neck bristling.

“Are we gonna have a problem here?” he growled deep in his chest, baring his gleaming, sharp teeth. Haxus paled and shrank away. Either he had underestimated Thace’s size from a sitting position, or he hadn’t expected him to intervene. Lotor certainly hadn’t.

“Uhh, nooo…” Haxus’ ears curled back against his head. “Just saying hello.” He forced a shaky laugh and looked around nervously, probably hoping Sendak would appear and back him up. “But I can see you’re busy, so I’ll just be going--” Thace snarled at him again, cutting him off, and Haxus scuttled away without further comment.

“Asshole,” Lotor muttered after his retreating form. “You didn’t have to do that,” he grumbled at Thace, scowling. “I can take care of myself.” He’d lost count of how many times he’d dealt with Haxus already; and without his friends there it wouldn’t even have been much of a challenge.

“Oh I know,” Thace shrugged. He settled back down onto the bench, facing out toward the room and reclining back against the table. “But that guy was a dick.”

“That’s Haxus. I hate him.” Lotor dropped into his seat again, and poked half heartedly at his food. His appetite seemed to have vanished.

“I bet,” Thace said with a snort. “He looks like the kind of guy who kidnaps people’s pets and eats them.”

Lotor snickered, and found himself grinning at Thace. “Probably… I mean, lock up your yuppers, right?” The older boy laughed loudly, and Lotor’s smile widened. It felt weird, like his face was cracking, but not unpleasant… Suddenly, Thace sat up straight, and elbowed him roughly in the ribs.

“Look,” he whispered, and gestured _somewhat_ subtly towards the mess entrance. A group of youths, headed up by a tall girl with cheekbones to rival Haxus’, were standing by the door and scanning the room, probably looking for a free table. “It’s Kiana.” Lotor nodded; he recognized her from one of his prior training groups. “What I wouldn’t do…” he breathed, with a touch of reverence. “She’s cute, right?” He nudged Lotor again. “What do you think, would I have a shot?”

Lotor shrugged, and turned back to his tray. “I guess? Maybe? I wouldn’t know.” The question irritated him, though he couldn’t say why.

“What, isn’t there anybody _you_ like?” Thace leaned over, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Lotor grimaced sourly, trying not to look at him. “Girls don’t like me.” He stabbed sullenly at the rapidly congealing stew. “Nobody likes me.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. _I_ like you.”

“You… do?” He glanced at Thace, waiting for there to be some kind of punchline at his expense, but the other boy just smiled back at him, flashing those perfect teeth. Lotor’s face felt warm.

“Sure,” Thace said agreeably. Then, cocking his head towards his tray, he added, “I’d like you more if you let me have that biscuit though.”

\-----

It was later than usual by the time Lotor got back to the suite. He’d taken a more circuitous path, hoping the walk would clear his head. Of what, he wasn’t even sure. He just felt _off,_ somehow. Confused.

Inside, it was dark and quiet, as he’d expected. Only Kova was there to greet him, twining around his legs with plaintive, hungry meows. Despite the late hour, he hadn’t been missed by anyone else -- outside of instructional times, he was mostly left to his own devices unless he was in trouble, or wanted for some specific purpose. Usually that was some mind-numbingly dull audience with his father that was meant to teach him… something, about the politics of command or whatever. So it was all the more startling when he walked into his room to find his mother sitting on his bed, rifling through his things. Her hood was pushed back from her face, and she was scanning through a sheaf of his holosheets.

Lotor dropped his bag on the ground, his mouth hanging open in horror. “What are you _doing?_ ” He charged across the room and snatched the pages out of her hand. “These are _private!_ ” The panic almost made his voice crack. Her golden eyes flickered, but otherwise she gave no reaction.

“Who is Thace?” she asked in a conversational tone, as if she hadn’t even heard him.

“Wh-what?” he sputtered, clutching the holosheets to his chest.

“Monitor Nartok tells me you have been spending a great deal of time with him.” _That asshole._

“Nartok needs to mind their own _business_ !” he yelled, flustered and angry. “Thace is just… he’s just a guy! From class! He keeps hanging around me for some reason, I don’t know! And, and -- you can’t just _be_ in my _room,_ Mother!!” This was a complete nightmare, and she wouldn’t even acknowledge his distress, let alone her flagrant invasion of his privacy.

“It sounds as though this boy wants to be your friend,” she said, with the barest hint of a smile. _Does she think this is funny?_ Lotor wanted to scream; his face felt like it was on fire.

“I mean, maybe? I guess? You need to _leave_ !” She made a little huffing sound that was not _quite_ a laugh, but finally she gathered up her robes and got unhurriedly to her feet.

“Your father wants you to accompany him to the arena next week,” she told him, still infuriatingly nonchalant. “Perhaps you could invite your little friend.” She patted him lightly on the cheek, her hand smelling of strange spices and chemicals, and glided past him, out of the room. Lotor was so stunned by the gesture that he couldn’t think of anything to say until the door shut behind her. Instead, he dumped the holosheets on the nightstand, threw himself onto his bed, and covered his head with a pillow so that no one would hear him scream.

 


	2. Breaking the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the young Galra are sent to a remote planet on a survival exercise, Lotor is faced with some unexpected challenges...

_ I am going to die. _

When he’d first received the notice that he’d been selected to participate in the youth survival exercise for this phoeb, Lotor had been intrigued. Excited even. Just the idea of getting off the hub - away from his parents, and the monitors -- was enough to pique his interest, despite the whole ‘group work’ aspect of it… Until he walked into the assembly hall to see Sendak and Haxus already there. His heart sank, hopes crushed by the knowledge that this would be the same shit, just with a different backdrop.

The exercise was meant to assess endurance and adaptability to unknown, dangerous situations. A soldier of the Galra Empire had to be prepared to survive and triumph in any environment, no matter how hostile. Equipped with basic weapons and gear, and a simple map, the group would be dropped onto an unknown planet. They would have just twenty vargas to orient themselves and fight their way through any obstacles or  hostiles, and reach the designated objective. It would be up to them to decide whether to work individually or as a team, but any who did not make the rendez-vous would be deemed to have failed the test, with potentially disastrous consequences for their future military career. Of course, that was a moot point for those who didn’t make it back at all.

_ I’m going to die, _ he thought again.  _ I’m going to die on some forsaken ball of rock, and Sendak and Haxus are going to piss on my corpse. _ Lotor crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to the door, scowling bitterly. He carefully avoided looking at Sendak and Haxus’ smirking faces, and pretended not to hear their snickering. Rexin, an older girl who was another friend of Sendak’s, was the next to arrive.  _ This just gets better and better. _ There was no way he would get through this with the three of them working against him, as he had no doubt they would. He pressed his arms tighter against his chest, wishing the wall would swallow him up. He glanced over at Monitor Jzin, who was checking names off on her datapad. Maybe he should just quit now and save everyone the time, and Sendak the satisfaction. Zarkon would be angry, of course, but what was one more failure in the long line of disappointments that was his life in his father’s eyes?

The doors opened again, and relief flooded through him in massive waves: it was Thace. He silently thanked whatever forces were at work in the universe; his chances of survival had just increased significantly. 

“Hey,” he pushed himself off the wall and waved to Thace. 

“Oh great, you’re here too!” Lotor still found it odd to hear someone say that to him without even a hint of sarcasm, but over the past movements Thace had shown no signs that his friendship was anything but genuine. He just kept hanging around, inexplicably insinuating himself into Lotor’s life. Though it still seemed kind of surreal if he really thought about it, and he had no idea  _ why _ someone like Thace would want to be around him, he was getting used to having a friend. “This is gonna be awesome,” Thace grinned.

“Well, I dunno about  _ awesome _ .” He cast a sidelong glance at Haxus and Sendak, frowning again. “But at least I won’t die alone now.”

“Ah, cheer up.” Thace punched him playfully in the arm. “Maybe we’ll get stranded and we can eat them to survive.” He smiled again, baring his gleaming white fangs. “Oh look, there’s Kiana too!” His ears perked up, and he turned to wave at her. Lotor rolled his eyes behind his back. Much to his dismay, she waved back and sauntered over.

“Hello boys,” she purred, with a casual flip of her ponytail. “So where do we think we’re off to today?”

“Nobody knows,” Lotor replied sharply, before Thace could get a word in. “That’s kind of the  _ point. _ ” He crossed his arms over his chest again, glowering. 

Kiana’s eyes widened briefly, then narrowed into a withering glare. “I was just making conversation,  _ Your Highness, _ ” she growled. “I’ll catch you later, Thace.”

“Why’d you have to chase her off?” Thace grumbled dejectedly, as she traipsed away to talk with Rexin instead. “She was trying to be nice.”

“She’s a  _ distraction. _ ” He couldn’t understand why Thace was so hung up on her. She wasn’t even that interesting.

“I can multi-task,” Thace protested. “You’re lucky I like you.”

When the rest of the group arrived, Jzin called the group to order. There were ten of them; five boys and five girls. Holmaz, Erani, Uneen and Zeda were the newer arrivals. Lotor wasn’t familiar with them, although he thought he’d probably seen them around. Judging from their prying stares, however, they certainly knew who  _ he _ was. Lotor stuck close to Thace as they lined up to receive their equipment before boarding the transport shuttle. This was going to be a long trip.

Thace somehow managed to sleep the whole way, only waking up when the small ship hit turbulence as it descended into the atmosphere. The shuttle’s viewports had been darkened so that none of the cadets could identify the planet as they approached; but wherever it was, it had some seriously heavy weather. There was a tight current of nervous excitement as everyone checked over their gear one last time. Finally, the aft hatch was lowered open, as the drop ship entered the lower atmosphere. At first, all Lotor could see were the thick grey clouds swirling around the craft, but as they dropped lower still, a barren snowy desert came into view, stretching out in every direction as far as he could see. An icy wind whipped through his hair, stinging his face.

“Cadets! Line up!” Jzin called, bellowing at the top of her voice just to be heard over the roar of wind and engines. “This ship will collect you from the objective point in twenty vargas! If you cannot complete the exercise, you will be located via a tracker in your suit after the test is concluded! This will constitute a failure!” Lotor thought her eyes stayed on him for just a little too long as she barked out that final word. He set his jaw, grim with renewed determination to prove her and everyone else wrong.  _ Triumph or death. _ Jzin clapped a fist over her breast in a traditional salute.  _ “Vrepit sa.” _

The next thing he knew, the monitor’s massive hand was on his shoulder, and he was being shoved out the bay door. The ground rushed up to meet him at an alarming speed. At the last tick, he remembered to tuck and roll with the impact, but he still ended up with a face full of snow. He shook frozen clumps of it from his hair, then looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. There wasn’t much to note. There were no signs of life or civilization as far as he could see, which was not spectacularly far -- with the wind whipping up the fine, powdery snow, visibility was approaching whiteout. He could make out what seemed to be a cliffside--no, an ice wall-- off to the left, but everything else was a dull white haze. 

All around him, the others were dusting themselves off and trying to get their bearings as well. Nobody seemed to know quite what to do, exchanging uneasy, uncertain glances.  _ Now what? _

“I think we ought to stick together,” Thace said finally. “I wouldn’t like any of our chances on our own.” He glanced up at the leaden sky, which was threatening to dump even more snow. 

“Agreed,” growled Sendak. Even he was less blustery than usual. “As long as everyone can keep up with me.” He glared pointedly at Lotor.

“ _ I _ won’t be the one slowing us down,” he hissed back. “And if we follow  _ you _ we’ll probably end up walking in a circle for the next quintent.”

Sendak snarled, and took a step towards him, baring his teeth.

“ _ Boys. _ ” Kiana barked. She stepped in front of Sendak, blocking his path. “Keep it in your pants. I’m not freezing to death on this shitty iceball because you two decided to have a pissing contest!” Someone behind him snickered, and Lotor’s face burned. Sendak bristled, but made no further moves. Although slim, Kiana was taller than he was, and he seemed unwilling to provoke a fight with her this early in the exercise. Lotor mentally revised his opinion of her by several notches; anyone who could defuse Sendak like that was worthy of some respect. “Let’s look at the map. We need to figure out where we are.” Uneen, a stocky girl with thick dark fur, held up the copy she’d already retrieved from her pack. 

“I’m pretty sure this line is that ridge here.” Uneen said, tracing a gloved claw along the holopad. The others clustered loosely around the two girls, looking at Uneen’s map, but Lotor preferred to get out his own. He didn’t want to get any closer to Sendak than he had to.

“What are all these squiggly lines?” asked Holmaz, craning his neck over the shorter girl’s head. The area they were in was veined with them, whatever they were; some marked with red, others green or yellow.

“I don’t know,” Kiana frowned. “Maybe some kind of geological feature we can’t see under all this snow. But it looks like if we keep this cliff on our right, we should come to a pass that’ll take us closer to the objective.” There was a low rumble of assent among the other cadets. Going over the ridge would be more direct, Lotor thought, but he had to concede that if the threatening storm were to hit while they were climbing, the outcome would be a disaster. “Let’s get moving.”

It was slow going. They were pitted against a wicked headwind, and the snow came up to Lotor’s knees. And oh, the  _ cold _ . With the suit’s hood and mask up, it mostly kept the wind out, but even though it was supposed to be insulated, he couldn’t get quite warm enough. Of course, it was designed for full-blooded galra, with a layer of fur as extra insulation. It wasn’t fair, but there was no point in complaining. Besides, it was taking all of his effort to keep pace with the group as he struggled through the snow. His lungs burned, and he didn’t have the breath for anything else. At least Thace was there with him. He was quiet, but his presence alone made the slog more bearable. With his longer legs he had less difficulty trudging through the snow, but even so, it was tiring enough that he wasn’t up for his usual banter. At least, that’s what Lotor told himself. Thace wasn’t angry with him over that thing with Kiana before, was he? A pang of guilt pricked at him. He stole a glance at him, but Thace had his mask up too, and Lotor couldn’t read anything other than stern resolve in his eyes.

The light was beginning to fade when Sendak called for a halt to check their position. They’d come to a formation of half a dozen spears of ice-covered rock, jutting out from the ground like withered fingers. It seemed like as good a landmark as any against which to measure their progress, and the spires provided a small amount of shelter from the unrelenting wind. Fat flakes of snow swirled in the air around them as they gathered around Uneen’s map again -- she seemed to have fallen into the role of navigator.

“I think we’re… here,” she pointed to a series of dark spots roughly conforming to the positions of the spires. 

“That’s not bad,” said Haxus. “If we keep up this pace we might make it to the pass by dark, and maybe there’ll be enough shelter to make camp.” He looked to Sendak, who nodded approvingly. 

“Just a nice walk in the snow,” he laughed. “I thought this would be  _ hard _ .”

“Maybe they made it easier, for… reasons,” Haxus smirked, with a pointed, disdainful look at Lotor. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but then he felt the ground shift beneath his feet, and froze.

“Did… did anyone else feel that?”  _ Maybe it was just the snow settling. _

“Feel what?” Kiana asked, looking up from the map.

“I did,” came Thace’s voice from behind him. Lotor wasn’t sure whether he would rather have been wrong or not, but he was relieved that Thace was still speaking to him, at least.

The ground trembled again. There was no mistaking it this time; the snow at their feet rolled like an ocean wave. Lotor struggled to keep his balance; Rexin and Holmaz were knocked off their feet. A low rumble rose from below them, barely audible at first over the howl of the wind through the fingers of rock, but swelling quickly until the ground seemed to vibrate with it.

“Get back!” Lotor yelled, drawing his sword. “Something’s coming!” He retreated from the centre of the spires, scrambling to get his back against one of them. The others followed his example, clearing the area where the disturbance seemed to be focused. Rexin and Holmaz managed to get up and make it to the rocks, but Haxus lost his footing and fell in the snow, thrown off balance by the tremors. He had barely picked himself up when it came.

The ground behind Haxus collapsed, then exploded upward as a long, segmented white body rose from the snow. He turned and gaped up at it in horror, his yellow eyes wide. Its head, fringed with a dozen long, lashing tentacles, terminated in a huge, gaping mouth filled with rows of backward-curving teeth.  _ An ice worm _ , Lotor realized. It was impossible to tell how much of the thing was still below the surface, but the part Lotor could see towered a good twenty feet above Haxus, and was at least as thick as he was tall. It had no eyes, but seemed quite able to see its prey; its tentacles reached out toward Haxus, whipping through the snowy air. He seemed frozen to the spot, with his ears curled back against his head. The colour drained from his face as the creature reared up even higher, preparing to strike.

Out of nowhere, Sendak barreled into him, knocking him aside and depriving the worm of its meal. Its maw found nothing but snow where seconds ago, Haxus had stood. Sendak roared and drew his sword, rushing toward the thing before it could pull its head back up out of reach. Lotor was grudgingly impressed -- whatever else Sendak might be, he was no coward. He managed one solid hit before it reared up again, severing one of the tentacles. The creature made a sort of hissing screech, and pale green fluid sprayed from the wound, freezing where it splattered on the snow. Haxus, now freed from his stupor, drew his weapon as well, moving to stand beside Sendak. The worm waved its remaining tentacles in the air, as though feeling it out, or perhaps tasting it. Slowly their undulations became less random, and they seemed to focus their movements on Sendak and Haxus.  _ Heat, _ he recalled;  _ they can sense heat with those feelers. _

“It sees with those tentacle things!” he yelled, drawing his weapon. Truth be told he wouldn’t have been sad to see it devour both of them, but he had a feeling they would need everyone to defeat the creature. Sendak was one of the strongest fighters on the team, although Lotor would certainly never admit it out loud.

Now that the initial shock of the worm’s appearance had worn off, the rest of the group began to circle it warily, weapons at the ready. Sendak and Haxus split up, dividing its attention. Its appendages probed the air, searching for a solid heat source; but with Galra moving all around it, its senses were confounded. Frustrated, it hissed again, and lashed out, whipping its pale body around in an arc. Holmaz and Erani scored solid hits to its body, their swords glanced off the chitin plating on its segments. Haxus was clever enough to wedge his blade between two articulations, which produced another gout of green ichor; but he lost his weapon in the process when it reeled away. 

Lotor waited for the thing’s head to get close -- if he could disable enough of its sensors, maybe it would retreat. As the tentacles came flying toward him, he took his shot, slicing off five of them in one clean blow, effectively blinding it on one side. The thing shrieked, thrashing its remaining appendages wildly. One of them struck Lotor across the middle, then reflexively coiled around his waist, lifting him off the ground. The next thing he knew he was whirling through the air in the thing’s grasp, so quickly he wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore. He hadn’t been prepared for how  _ strong _ it was. The worm’s feelers had looked so thin and fragile, but now it felt like he was being crushed. Panic set in. He tried beating on the tentacle with his fists -- he’d dropped his sword somewhere along the line -- to no avail. There was a lot of shouting, but the only thing he could really make out over the blood roaring in his ears was Thace calling his name. 

The creature let out another hissing wail, and jerked violently; someone must have hit it in a sensitive area. All at once it uncoiled itself from around Lotor, but the momentum of its thrashing sent him flying, spinning sideways through the air. He felt his left leg hit something hard and unyielding, and heard a sickening snap; his body jackknifed around the ice spire, and he half slid, half rolled to the ground. He tried to push himself up to his knees, but immediately fell over again. His head was reeling, and a white hot agony blossomed in his shin. His stomach turned over violently. Lotor yanked his mask down; he thought he might be sick. Helpless, all he could do was lie on his side in the snow, gulping down the cold air and trying not to puke. He could barely focus on what was going on around him, but it seemed like his teammates were winning, so that was good at least. The world stopped spinning just in time for him to see the mangled ice worm retreat at last into the burrow it had come from, the vibrations it made as it moved through the frozen snow quickly fading to nothing.

As the others collected themselves and sheathed their swords, Lotor slowly sat up, hissing in a breath through his teeth, screwing his eyes shut against the pain. When he opened them again, Thace was there, hovering over him with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” 

“‘’M fine,” Lotor mumbled through gritted teeth, but when he tried to stand, his wounded leg betrayed him. He collapsed against Thace with a strangled scream, clinging to him for support. It was no use; his vision swam every time he so much as moved the leg, let alone tried to put any weight on it. 

“You are not,” Thace rumbled. Carefully, as though Lotor was some fragile doll, he set him back down in the snow. Kiana and Sendak approached them, with Haxus and the others hanging back, keeping an uneasy eye out in case the worm should return.

“Can he walk?” Sendak growled, as if Lotor wasn’t even there.

Thace shook his head. “I think his leg is broken.”

“I’m  _ right here! _ ” Sendak ignored him, but Thace at least had the grace to look apologetic.

“We need to move,” Kiana said, looking up at the darkening sky with furrowed brows. She was right; their victory had come not a dobosh too soon. The snow was becoming heavier, the visibility even poorer than it had been before. They would have to hug the cliff face just to keep from getting turned around, and they wouldn’t be able to keep the same pace they had before. They’d spent valuable time fighting the creature, and the ticker was not on their side. Lotor had a sinking feeling he knew what that would mean for him. “Thace… we need to go.”

“Fine,” Thace said, with an obstinate jut to his jaw. “I’ll carry him.”

“You’ll what?” Lotor sputtered.

“You won’t be able to keep up like that,” Sendak said, his face twisted in a derisive sneer..

“We can’t just leave him here,” Thace growled. “He’ll  _ die. _ ”

Exasperated, Lotor let himself fall back into the snow, looking up at the clouds, blinking away the snow. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.

“Triumph or death,” Sendak snarled back.

“Oh just  _ go, _ all of you!” Lotor spat. “I’ll be fine,” he added, with a certainty he did not feel. He couldn’t take another second of them arguing over him as though he had given up any agency of his own.  _ Just leave me here to freeze. At least it’ll be quieter. _

“No,” Thace said stubbornly, glaring at Sendak. “I’m staying.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, then stalked off toward the rest of the group, motioning for them to move out. 

Kiana moved to follow him, then hesitated. “Thace… Think of your future.” 

“That’s for me to worry about,” he snapped. “Go.” She ducked her head apologetically at Thace before turning away.  _ She couldn’t even look at me.  _ She was right, though. Thace had dreams of a commission with the main fleet someday, maybe even his own command. Failing this test would be a black mark on his record, and Lotor didn’t want to be responsible for ruining Thace’s life on top of everything else.

“You great big idiot,” he said through clenched teeth, “go with them. The monitors aren’t going to let me die out here in the snow. I’m the Crown Prince, remember?” He forced a hollow laugh. Of course, he was sure of no such thing. For all he knew, his father would be perfectly content to try for an upgraded model.

Thace shook his head; he wasn’t buying it. “I don’t even know if they could get to you in this storm.” The wind was a veritable gale now, blowing the snow almost parallel to the ground. Thace had a solid layer stuck to the back of his suit, and it was starting to drift up around Lotor’s body. He had to concede that he was not too keen on being buried alive. “I’m going to pick you up,” Thace said. “It’s probably gonna hurt.”

It did. Despite his resolve to remain stoic in front of his friend, it was just too much, and he howled as Thace lifted him up off the ground. He fancied he could feel the ends of the broken bone rubbing together, and his stomach lurched again.

“Sorry,” Thace mumbled. 

“Where are we going?” He was disgusted by how weak his voice sounded. The indignity of his situation -- cradled in Thace’s arms like a child -- hurt almost as much as his leg. Almost.

“I’m gonna head for the cliff face… Maybe there’s a crack or something where we’ll be out of the wind, at least.” He must have noticed Lotor’s color, because he added, “please don’t throw up on me.”

“I promise nothing,” he muttered. Every step that Thace took was agony. His movements were hardly fluid; the snow was up to his knees now, and between that and the wind, he had to throw his weight into every movement. Lotor tried to concentrate on his breathing, focusing on that instead of the pain, but he still found himself fisting a handful of Thace’s suit. The one benefit was that, for the first time in hours, he didn’t feel as cold. Thace seemed to radiate heat; Lotor wondered if all full-blooded Galra were so warm.

All at once, the snow stopped. Lotor looked up, and realized they had reached the bluff, finally. Thace had managed to find a crevice in its sheer surface. Now that they were inside it, Lotor could see that it was composed of rocks held together by ice -- probably an ancient glacier. Thace carefully set him down so that he was sat leaning up against the wall, and this time he was able to keep from yelling, at least. He gritted his teeth against the pain, hissing his breath through his teeth.

“Well, at least we’re out of the wind.” Thace dropped down next to him with a sigh. “Let’s see where we are, I guess.” He rummaged around in the small survival pack on his hip, and pulled out his headlamp.

“Thace…” He felt like he should say something, but what?  _ Sorry you ruined your life to save me?  _ He had never been good at apologies or… feelings. “Thanks for… for taking me with you,” he mumbled. “And I’m sorry I messed things up for you with Kiana…. And the rest of it.” He stared into his lap. His face burned even as the ice leached the heat from the rest of his body.

“You’re my friend,” Thace sighed, fiddling with the light. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“You should have.” He leaned his head back against the ice. His leg throbbed miserably. “That would’ve been the smart thing to do.” _ The Galra thing to do _ .

“Are you saying I’m not smart?” Thace lifted his eyebrows in mock affront. “Besides, you’d have done it for me.” 

Lotor realized, to his surprise, that he would have. It was an odd feeling. “Yeah… Yeah, I guess.” 

Thace managed to get his light working, and swept the beam around the cavern. It was more like the end of a tunnel, roughly cylindrical, the ceiling only a foot or so above Thace’s head. The cliff side had crumbled somewhat, leaving only the small crevice he had found, but inside the glacier, it stretched off into darkness. “Spooky,” Thace muttered.

A thought nagged at the back of Lotor’s mind, momentarily piercing the haze of pain. “Hey, can I see the map?”

“Sure.” Thace shrugged and pulled out his copy, handing it over to Lotor. He scanned it eagerly; if he was right, they might still have a chance after all. A grin stretched across his face.

“Look”-- he stabbed a finger at a point where the boundary of the ridge abutted one of the sinuous lines Holmaz had noticed earlier--”look where we are.” The marks that indicated the six spires were just a stone’s throw away.

“On the… green line?” Thace looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Is that good?”

“Listen. That thing that came out of the snow was an ice worm, right? They’re native to the eighth planet of the Ulippa system.” He’d recognized it from slides he’d seen in some otherwise forgotten lesson or other. Thace nodded. “They make tunnels all through the planet’s ice crust. Just like this one!” He continued, picking up speed as his excitement grew. “Back when the Empire used to mine nalgerium here, they would sometimes use the old tunnels to move ore and equipment without having to deal with this planet’s shitty weather. So you know where this goes?” Thace nodded, a smile slowly forming on his lips. Lotor traced the twisting line across the holopage to the soft pulsing red of the objective point. “I’m betting this is an old mining outpost, or maybe a monitoring station, and...”

“...And we can cut through this glacier, right to the finish line!”

“With time to spare.” He handed the map back, still grinning, for Thace to see for himself. But as he looked it over, his smile faded. “What? What is it?” Lotor asked.

“That’s still a lot of walking.”

“Oh.” Lotor looked away, deflated. “Well, you should go.” It only made sense. “I’m out of the storm here. I’ll be alright.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Thace replied abruptly. “You weigh next to nothing. I can carry you. It’s just…” He hesitated, frowning. He glanced down at Lotor’s leg. There was no mistaking the unnatural way that his foot was turned, or the slight  _ dent _ in the front of his shin, visible even through his boot. “I can tell it’s bad -- you look like you’re going to die every time you move it. And I’m afraid of making it worse.”

“I can handle it.” The idea that Thace  _ wanted _ to take him along was heartening, and he didn’t want to let him down. He could deal with the pain.  _ I hope _ .

“Are you sure?” His ears flicked back, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah.” Lotor smirked. “I want to see the look on Sendak’s face when he finds out we beat him.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Thace chuckled as he got to his feet. “Alright. Let’s do this.” Lotor took a deep breath, and held it as he scooped him up once more. It hurt just as much as before, maybe even more; his vision blurred, and for a tick went dark at the edges. He bit his lip to keep from crying out again, and tasted blood. “Still good?” Thace asked softly.

“Never better,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Get on with it. Please.”

The tunnel made for much easier terrain than the deep snow had, and Thace was able to tread more carefully than before. Lotor could tell that he was making an effort not to jar him, but there was only so much he could do. Every movement was torture; he tried the breathing exercises again, but his nerves were so raw and overstimulated that it was no use. The thought of vargas and vargas of this agony made him want to cry, but he refused to show that kind of weakness. He was afraid to ask how long they’d been traveling; it felt like ages, but if Thace told him it was less than a varga… Lotor closed his eyes, as though that could somehow shut out the pain.

He might have passed out -- he couldn’t tell for certain, or for how long if he had, but suddenly he realized that Thace was singing. He couldn’t place the tune, but it was pretty. The words seemed to be about a soldier returning from war to find his mate. At first she didn’t recognize him, so he pretended to be someone else to find out whether she would be faithful. When she rebuffed his advances, he showed her a token she’d given him, and the song ended happily. Thace continued to hum the melody to himself, perhaps unaware that he’d been listening.

“What’s that?” Lotor asked. 

“Huh?” Thace broke off the tune, startled from his reverie. “What’s what?”

“You were singing.”

“Oh, that’s just an old folk song… My mother used to sing it when we were grooming, or going to sleep. Well, she still does, I guess,” he added, with a short, fond huff.

Lotor frowned. “You sleep with your mother?”

“And my father and brother. I mean, not all the time. I’m getting a bit old for it I guess,”  Thace said with a sigh. He sounded almost…  _ wistful? _ “You mean… you don’t?”

“No!” The thought was, frankly, terrifying.

“Ever?” Thace was incredulous.

“I hardly even  _ see  _ them.”  _ Unless they want something, or I’ve done something wrong. Again. _

“It’s a family thing… I thought everybody--well, never mind.” Thace cut himself off hastily. “Maybe it’s different for royal types,” he added with a nervous laugh, before lapsing into silence. Lotor was glad to have the subject dropped. He didn’t need to think about a whole new reason why he was a freak. Unfortunately, the lack of conversation meant there was nothing to take his mind off the pain that flared with every stride Thace took. He curled his fists against his chest, breathing shallowly. 

“Hey Thace,” he said after a few more doboshes of uncomfortable quiet. “Could you maybe… sing some more?” He felt stupid asking, but it  _ had _ been oddly soothing… He was glad that Thace was too busy watching where he was going to see the flush in his cheeks. “It helps distract me.”

“Oh, so  _ now _ you’re fine with distractions.” Thace chuckled, but there was no malice in it. He struck up a new song, this one about some kind of bird being chased across the universe. It was probably a metaphor for something, but Lotor was in no state to think about it too deeply.

Gradually they began to see more indications of the tunnel’s previous usage, such as loops of old conduit coiled against the wall, empty ore storage bins, and broken tools, discarded when the Galra abandoned the depleted mining operation decaphoebs earlier. Finally, the passage opened up into a larger cavern, obviously artificially excavated. Here there were more of the ore carts and bins, some still holding a few chunks of dark, glittering rock. The remains of deactivated mining droids, stripped down for their parts before their masters’ departure, were piled in a corner, and a handful of light strips still flickered anemically on the walls, casting eerie, twitching shadows. There were other tunnels branching off the main chamber, and a ramp leading upward to a hatch that had been set into the ice and stone.

“This should be it,” Thace said. He made his way up the ramp, kicking aside what looked like one of the droids’ detached arms. “Try the panel.” Lotor stretched out his arm and rested his hand on the scanner. To his relief, a soft violet light pulsed to life, sweeping across his palm, and the hatch opened with a soft hiss.

It must have been a pretty remote outpost, or just a minor satellite operation, because the structure on the other side was much smaller than the excavation below. There were a few gutted terminals, and a blank space on one wall where there had once been a comm screen. There were no windows, and the only other door led to the punishing weather outside, judging from the small amount of powdery snow that had pushed its way through the failing seal. A canvas cot was pushed up against one wall; evidently that was what had passed as sleeping quarters for whoever had the unenviable job of manning the station. 

“You’d think they could have at least turned the power on for us,” Thace grumbled. Lotor would have settled for just the heating. It was somehow colder than it had been in the ice tunnel, and a frigid draft whistled through the gap in the door. “It should only be a few more vargas though; assuming this is the right spot.”

“It is.” It had to be. “Are you going to put me down now?” Lotor had had enough of being carried around like a broken doll, and the cot was looking more inviting than it had any business doing.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” As careful as Thace was, the extra movement was torturous. Lotor grimaced and choked back a whimper as he set him on the pallet. “Sorry, sorry,” Thace repeated, sounding flustered.

“Stop apologizing,” he said, once the waves of pain and nausea had abated. Seeing Thace so worried about him made him almost as uncomfortable as his injury. “You said just a few more vargas right?” 

“Yeah, uh”--he fumbled in his pack for the ticker--”three and a half. Give or take.” He sat down on the floor next to Lotor, crossing his long legs and resting his hands on his knees. “Wow… We really did it.” He glanced over at him with a wide, toothy grin.

“Can’t wait to see the look on Sendak’s face.” He smiled back at Thace, and they both laughed. Thace leaned back against the edge of the cot with a relaxed sigh, and for a while they shared a comfortable silence. In spite of the situation, Lotor felt strangely content, and at ease; as though for once everything would turn out alright.  _ If only it weren’t so cold. _ Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe his body was just worn down from the sustained output of stress hormones thanks to his shattered leg. Whatever the reason, it seemed colder than before. Shivering, he hugged his crossed arms close to his chest and stuffed his hands into his armpits, trying to stave off the chill that crept over him. 

“Are you cold?” Thace glanced over his shoulder, frowning again.

“Are you  _ not? _ ”  _ Oh right, of course you aren’t. _  He felt Thace’s warm golden eyes on him, glowing with concern, and looked away quickly, self-conscious again. “Can you just… stop fussing over me for the next two vargas?” he muttered. “I’m not a  _ child. _ ”

“No…” Thace said slowly, and Lotor could tell he was carefully choosing his next words. “But you’re hurt and exhausted. I need to keep you warm.” Lotor fixed him with a baleful gaze, but it was difficult to glare properly with his teeth chattering. “Please?”

“...Fine.” 

Lotor wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it was not what happened next. Thace took off his pack and headlamp, and climbed onto the cot with him. He gingerly stretched out his large frame so that Lotor’s head was level with his chest, and the pallet sagged under his weight so that Lotor effectively rolled into him. His leg screamed from the unexpected jarring, but he was so stunned that he barely reacted. Thace tucked one arm under his head and draped the other over Lotor.

“Is this too weird for you?”

“N-no,” he lied. It  _ was _ weird, but not…  _ bad  _ weird?  _ Thace does this all the time with his family, _ he reminded himself. He just couldn’t remember ever being so close to anyone -- before today -- who wasn’t trying to injure him. He tried to relax, willing his heart to stop racing. If he stayed perfectly still, his leg didn’t hurt so much, and it was almost comfortable. Thace was so warm, and, exhausted as Lotor was, the steady rhythm of his breath and heartbeat soon lulled him into a drowsy, half-asleep state. His eyelids felt very heavy now, and he let his head rest against Thace’s broad chest. He smelled nice, like the fresh cold air outside, sweat, and something else warm and spicy, like --  _ what the fuck.  _ Lotor jolted awake. _ You’re not supposed to  _ smell  _ your friends.  _ He swallowed hard, mortified. Heat crept up from his neck, flushing his cheeks. He felt flustered and confused, like that day in the mess hall, but a thousand times worse… The realization hit him with the force of an ion cannon.  _ Oh no. _

“Hey, are you alright?” Thace’s low voice rumbled, vibrating through his chest. “You got real tense all of a sudden.”

“It’s… it’s my leg,” he replied feebly. He was sweating now. “I must have jostled it, or, or something.”  _ Or something. _ He was beginning to wish the ice worm had finished him off. Better that than to die of embarrassment, or to have to deal with whatever  _ this  _ was. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to move, or push Thace away. He remained paralyzed, bewildered and inexplicably terrified, for the better part of a varga, maybe longer, before they began to hear muffled shouting outside. Thace got to his feet just as the doors slid open, revealing eight very tired and snow-covered Galra. 

Lotor had never been so happy to see Sendak and Haxus, and not just because of the indignant, dumbfounded looks on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo congrats on making it to the end of this chapter; it was way longer than I anticipated! have a dumb sketch of Kiana . :)
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	3. What Are Friends For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an encounter with his father leaves Lotor unsettled and upset, Thace tries to help him relax with some casual grooming... What are friends for, right?

The arena roared around them, thousands of voices screaming for blood as the two combatants in the gladiator pit clashed. The current champion and crowd favourite was a hulking brute of a Numerian, her carapace scored with the marks of past battles. Pitted against her was a tall, willowy alien, possibly of Hylian heritage, with barklike skin and a long thorny tail. As far as Lotor was concerned, it wasn’t much of a fight. The Numerian was basically hammering her opponent into the ground, as he steadfastly failed to seize any of the openings he left him. The masses, and his companion, did not share his opinion. 

Thace leaned over the balcony railing, cheering and yelling with the rest of the mob. It was only for his sake that Lotor was here at all. He preferred to avoid the arena unless the Emperor demanded his presence; the crowds and the noise were an assault on his senses. Ever since he’d let it slip that he had access to his father’s private box however, Thace had been trying desperately to convince Lotor to take him. Lotor didn’t understand the appeal. The match would end the same way whether you watched it from the Emperor’s couch or the nosebleed seats. But Thace was his best friend—his only friend, really—and so here they were.

There was another blast of cheering and applause, even louder than before. The champion had struck her final blow, and the Hylian challenger sprawled face down on the ground with a puddle of sap spreading out from his midsection. The victor raised her weapon to the stands in a salute, while the crowd howled their approval. Thace was on his feet, yelling and clapping with the rest of them, until finally the champion was escorted from the ring.

“That was amazing!” he gushed, turning back toward Lotor.

“I guess.” Lotor shrugged. Frowning, he tugged at a bit of lint on the edge of his seat. He’d hoped Thace would have had enough and they could go and do something more interesting, but he was still giddy with excitement.

“You didn’t think it was a good fight?” Thace’s brows drew together, and his ears pricked forward.

“He was stupid,” he replied sourly. “Her attacks were so predictable. If he’d just taken five ticks to watch her, he’d have seen how she left her weak spot open every time she lunged.”

Thace tilted his head, considering. “Maybe it’s different when you’re down there fighting with live weapons.”

Lotor’s lip curled up in a skeptical frown.  _ “I _ could have beaten her. All it would take…” His words trailed off as he noticed Thace’s eyes widen to the size of dikon eggs, and his ears pin back against his head. Dread pricked up Lotor’s spine, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

“The gladiator pits are no place for a Prince of the Galra.”

Lotor’s mouth went dry at the sound of his father’s low, gravelly voice. He scrambled to his feet, and clasped his hand over his chest in the requisite salute. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered. “It was just talk.”

“Don’t  _ mumble _ , Lotor,” Zarkon growled. Mortified, Lotor withered under the uncompromising glare of those gleaming eyes. He never felt smaller than he did in his father’s presence.  _ Why is he even here? _ The occasions on which Zarkon felt the need to personally check up on him were… well, there _ weren’t _ any. The Emperor looked past Lotor to where Thace still stood gawking with his jaw hanging open. ”So. You must be Thace.” The pieces all fell into place. His father wasn’t there to see  _ him _ at all, really. He just wanted to make sure Lotor wasn’t embarrassing him by associating with some shameful lowlife.

Finally, Thace recovered his wits enough to drop to one knee and salute. “Y-yes sire,” he stammered. His ears twitched nervously.

“I understand you will be of age to enroll in the Academy soon.” Zarkon clasped his hands behind his back as his glowing eyes bored into Thace.

“Yes My Lord. Next year. Sire.”

“And what path will you pursue?”

Thace’s ears twitched again, but he puffed his chest up a little, gaining confidence. “Expansion and exploration, sire. I hope to be worthy of a command in your fleet one day,” he added with a touch of reverence.

This seemed to please the Emperor. “Excellent,” he rumbled. “I have no doubt… And perhaps your example will inspire my son to apply himself more fully.” Lotor’s face flushed a deep violet, but he knew better than to protest. He clenched his fists at his sides, concentrating on the pain of his nails biting into his palms instead.  Meanwhile, Thace opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, unsure of how he was meant to respond, but Zarkon saved him the trouble. “I have matters which require my attention. Lotor, behave yourself,” he growled as he turned to leave. Lotor glared hatefully at the floor, while Thace gaped after the Emperor’s retreating form.  _ He just  _ had _ to talk to me like a naughty fucking toddler, right in front of Thace. _

When he had gone, Lotor dropped heavily onto the couch, while Thace pushed himself back up to his feet. “Kurva peklo,” Thace breathed. “I almost had a heart attack!” He laughed uneasily at first, but brightened as the shock of the encounter wore off. “How cool was  _ that _ , though?” He grinned.

“Oh yeah, super great,” Lotor deadpanned. “Can we go now? This place is giving me a headache.”

Thace was still buzzing from his brush with greatness as they wound their way through the corridors of the hub towards Lotor’s quarters. “... And he called me by _ name!  _ My mother’s going to lose it when I tell her,” he prattled on, too star-struck to notice Lotor’s darkening mood. “Oh wow, do you think I made a good impression? I hope I didn’t sound dumb.”

“Oh don’t worry. He liked you fine,” Lotor grumbled sourly. “You’re just his type.”

Stupid perfect Thace with his perfect teeth, square jaw, broad shoulders…  _ He _ was what the Emperor wanted in a son. Lotor ought to have hated him, but it seemed the opposite was true, which really just made everything worse.  

Ever since that stupid survival exercise, it was like a dam had burst, and his mind was flooded with Thace, Thace, Thace. He couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop staring when he wasn’t looking. His hands, his shoulders, and oh void that ruff of fur on the back of his neck… Sometimes it felt as though someone was reaching in through his chest and squeezing, or twisting. It was awful. But the idea of not being around Thace was even worse.

It was all so pointless and stupid and he hated himself for it. He was scrawny. Stunted. Ugly. A half-breed with no proper claws, no scales, no fur…  _ If they did grow me in a lab, they did a shitty job. _ Even his own father thought he was worthless. No real Galra would ever want to be with him. Least of all Thace. And if he knew how Lotor felt, he probably wouldn’t even want to be his friend anymore, either.

Luckily, he remained completely oblivious, rambling on about girls the way he always did. It seemed like there was a new one every movement; first Kiana, then Cevrid, then that one with the red crest, then Vola… Lotor didn’t know whether Thace actually ever got anywhere with any of these girls, and he didn’t care to ask. Thinking about it made him sick to his stomach—not unlike thinking about his father. Lotor’s scowl deepened, his shoulders hunched and tensed.

“Hey, are you alright?” Thace broke off his gushing, and looked at him with a worried frown.

“I’m fine,” he muttered sourly.  _ Except that everything is terrible. _

Thace was quiet for a dobash, ruminating. “It really bothered you, the way he talked to you,” he said softly. “I got carried away with—well, I should’ve known you were upset. Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish and awkward and  _ fucking adorable. _ Lotor looked away quickly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.” They reached the door to his suite, and Lotor pressed his hand to the scanner to open it. Thace followed him inside, and trailed after him to his room. Kova chirped a greeting, uncurling languidly from where he’d been napping on the bed, and Lotor stooped to scratch his tufted crest.

“You want me to groom you?” Thace asked with a brilliant grin. “That always makes me feel better.”

Lotor straightened up and gawked at him, incredulous. There was no way he’d heard that correctly. “Groom me?” he repeated. “Like… brush my hair?”

“Well, I usually just use my hands,” he shrugged. “Don’t get weird about it,” he teased, seeing Lotor’s obvious misgiving. “My mother does it for me. My brother too, sometimes.”

“I’m not—I mean, my hair is weird. It’s gross. It isn’t… normal.” He stumbled over the words, flustered.

“Aw, I think it looks nice.”

_...Nice?  _ Lotor turned away so he wouldn’t see the color spreading like flames across his face. “Well, if—if you really want to, sure. I guess.” He had a feeling Thace wasn’t going to let it drop anyway.

“Great!” Thace beamed. “Come on, sit down then!”

Lotor perched stiffly on the edge of the bed. His heart was threatening to beat out of his ribcage, and he wasn’t sure whether he was excited or terrified.  _ Both, _ he decided.  _ Definitely both. _ The mattress sagged under Thace’s weight as he settled himself behind him, with a leg on either side. Lotor stayed perfectly still, with his back rigid and his hands clamped over his kneecaps, as Thace began to comb his fingers through his hair.

“Wow, it’s really soft!” Thace breathed, appreciative.

Lotor felt himself blushing again. “Thanks,” he mumbled weakly. He shivered as Thace grazed his claws over his scalp, and down the back of his neck, grateful that he couldn’t see his face. “You really just… do this with your family?”

“Of course,” Thace laughed. “I mean, there’s always someplace you can’t reach, like back between your shoulders, for instance. You have to trust the person, but it’s no big deal.” He sounded so nonchalant.  _ Just a perfectly normal thing, for perfectly normal Galra to do. _ I’m  _ the one who’s different. _

It did feel good, though. Better than good—amazing. In spite of his apprehension, Lotor felt the tension ebbing from his body as Thace carded his fingers through his hair. It was an involuntary response; before he knew it his head was hanging down over his chest, his eyelids drooping half-closed.

“It’s nice, right?” prompted Thace, as he trailed a hand down Lotor’s spine.

”Uh-huh,” he mumbled, drowsy.

“Great!” Thace patted his back one more time, then smoothed his hair out over his shoulders. “Now you do me!” Lotor snapped out of his daze and sat bolt upright, his spine as taut as a bowstring. Thace twisted himself around to sit beside him instead, and before Lotor could fully process what was happening, he was taking off his shirt.

_ This is not happening. This is absolutely not happening. I have died, and this is a hallucination produced by my brain shutting down. _ He swallowed hard, trying— _ failing _ —not to stare. Even obscured by all that gorgeous purple fur, Thace’s physique was stunning. The way his muscles rippled when he moved—just the  _ shape _ of him left Lotor breathless.

Thace tossed his tunic to the ground and looked over at him, expectant and guileless. “Well?”

“Oh, right,” he managed feebly, when he’d remembered to breathe again. “Sure, yeah.” Still feeling stunned, he moved to sit on his knees behind Thace. He stretched a tentative hand toward him, until his trembling fingers barely brushed the fur between his shoulder blades. Absurdly nervous, he bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a small bead of blood. The coppery taste helped distract him from his racing pulse though, so that was alright.

“Don’t just pet it,” Thace laughed easily. “You gotta really get in there.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, flustered. He was once again grateful that Thace was turned away from him. “I’ve—I mean—what do I do?”  _ He must think I’m mentally deficient, _ Lotor thought with dismay, cursing himself and his ineptitude.

“Just kind of… comb it out.” Thace rolled his shoulders, encouraging.

Lotor took a deep breath, and let his fingers sink into the thick fur. It was every bit as soft as he’d imagined. Luxuriant, even. Awestruck, he splayed out his other hand over Thace’s back as well, and let his fingers curl through the plush coat. The fur was somewhat flattened from being compressed by his shirt, but fluffed up magnificently as he raked through it.  _ There is no way I should be enjoying this so much, _ he reflected, as he inhaled Thace’s warm, spicy scent. Heat crept up under his collar, and he felt a little guilty—but not enough to stop.

Thace huffed contentedly, and leaned back into Lotor’s touches. Reassured that he must at least be doing something right, Lotor brushed his nails across the skin under his coat. His claws, if you could even call them that, were shamefully small—Kova could probably do more damage—but Thace didn’t seem to mind. He started making a deep rumbling sound that seemed to roll around in his chest, sending vibrations up through Lotor’s arms. It wasn’t quite like anything he’d heard before. Or… was it? Frowning, he glanced over at Kova, who had returned to his nap, curled up on a pillow on the other side of the bed.

“Thace, are you—are you alright? What is that?”

Thace’s head snapped up, as though he’d been dozing, and cleared his throat. “Uh, nothing; it’s fine.” He laughed, but Lotor thought it sounded a little nervous. He pulled his hands away, suddenly afraid that he’d done something inappropriate or offensive; because  _ of course _ Thace would be too nice to say…

“Did I do it wrong?” Anxiety scrabbled at his throat once more.

“Oh no.” Thace chuckled again, but this time it seemed more natural. “I’m just embarrassed ‘cause you caught me purring like a kit,” he confessed. He stretched his arms out in front of him, then leaned back to lie on the bed next to Lotor, folding his hands behind his head.

“Oh.” Lotor drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them close.  _ If I’d just kept my stupid mouth shut, he would have let me keep going…  _  He glanced at him askance to avoid being caught staring, but Thace’s eyes were shut. He looked as if he might actually be falling asleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. When he didn’t move for a full dobosh, Lotor allowed himself a more lingering look.  _ Void, why? Why is he so _ perfect? It was almost painful, like staring at a proximate star. He felt as though his insides were trying to claw their way out of his body.  _ I just want to bury my face in his fur and live there forever, is that so wrong? _ But of course it was. Wrong and  _ ridiculous. _ Nevertheless, Lotor found himself fighting down a desperate urge to simply throw himself at Thace.  _ He’s  _ right there _ and I could just _ —

“Whatcha thinking about?” Thace asked, without opening his eyes.

Lotor turned his head away quickly enough that he felt a twinge in his neck. He stared dead ahead at the wall and tried to think of something  _ safe _ to say, but the words that made their way from his brain to his mouth were anything but. “You ever kiss anybody?” he blurted out, to his own abject horror. A surge of nausea wrenched his guts.

“Sure, lots of times,” Thace laughed breezily.

His stomach was twisting itself into knots, but he couldn’t seem to stop his mouth from moving. “What’s it… like?” He was sweating now.  _ Brilliant. _

“Oh, well…” Thace half-smiled, thoughtful; Lotor thought he might be sick. “It’s warm, and uh, kind of wet, I guess? But nice. You get their scent and...”—his eyes flew open, wide and gleaming—”WAIT A MINUTE.” He sat up, staring at Lotor with a wide, self-satisfied smirk. “There  _ is _ someone you have a crush on! I  _ knew  _ it,” he crowed. Lotor flinched away, aghast. He scrambled backward away from him—and nearly fell off the edge of the bed before Thace caught him by the wrists. “Who is she?” Thace demanded, still grinning impishly, ears pricked forward.

“Nobody, there’s nobody!” Lotor protested, flushed violet and on the verge of hyperventilating. “It’s just hypothetical!”

“Suuure it is,” he laughed. “Fine, fine, keep your secret...” He let go of Lotor’s arms and sat back on his haunches. “I’ll figure it out, though.”

_ Crex I hope not, _ he thought, disgusted with himself _.  _ “Even if there was someone, they wouldn’t want to kiss  _ me, _ ” he muttered. He knew as soon as he’d said it that it sounded bitter and pathetic.

“Oh come on,” Thace huffed with amusement, “what girl wouldn’t want a kiss from a handsome prince?”

Lotor crossed his arms over his chest, turning away. His rational mind knew that at worst Thace was just teasing him, and at best trying to cheer him up; but it felt like he’d driven a knife through his belly.  _ Because even you can’t think of someone liking me as anything more than a joke, can you?  _ “Stop it,” he spat. “I’m not handsome. I’m ugly. A freak, a”—he thought of all the insults he’d heard over the years, both whispered behind his back and said to his face—”a mongrel.”

“If  _ I _ was a girl, I’d let you kiss me.”

Lotor’s arms dropped limply to his sides as he looked back at Thace, dumbfounded. There was  _ no way _ he had heard that correctly. “W-what?” he stammered.

Thace shrugged affably. Before he could make any other reply, the ticker in his pocket went off, sending out a series of warbling chimes before he could silence it. “Oh damn,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. “I have to go; I’m supposed to be home already.” He scooped his shirt up off the floor and hurriedly pulled it over his head. Lotor was still too stunned to do anything but watch him with his mouth hanging half-open. “See you in class!” he called brightly over his shoulder, as he started for the door.

“...See you,” he managed weakly. He wasn’t sure whether Thace heard him or not before the suite door slid shut behind him.

WIth a tortured groan, he threw himself down on the bed, covering his face with his hands. After a dobosh or two, he glanced across the bed at Kova, watching the cat through his fingers. As if he knew he was being watched, he opened his eyes and blinked slowly at Lotor.

“I don’t suppose you’re one of those cats who’ll sit on my chest and suck my breath out while I’m sleeping, are you,” he sighed. Kova closed his eyes and rearranged his paws underneath him, apparently not interested in his proposal. Lotor groaned again, then rolled over and buried his face in the plush coverlet.

It smelled like Thace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come flail with me on [tumblr!](http://lotors-saltwife.tumblr.com)


	4. My Least Favorite Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Lotor's birthday... What could possibly go wrong?

Lotor’s birthday was by far his least favourite day of the year. He had a vague understanding that in many family groups, the passage of another decaphoeb was marked by some kind of celebration; but his mother had other ideas. Instead he would be taken to her lab, and spend the day being subjected to a barrage of questions and uncomfortable tests. He was never sure quite what they were for, but he always had the feeling he hadn’t passed; she always seemed disappointed. Once these obligations were fulfilled, all he wanted to do was hide in his room, alone with Kova, and wait for the day to be over. The bony little cat curled up against his chest, purring softly as he dozed, until the door chime startled them both awake.

He wasn’t sure why he should have been surprised to see Thace standing there. His parents wouldn’t have bothered to ring, and no one else ever came to visit him. An unexpected wave of emotion surged through him, and he fought down the impulse to throw his arms around Thace and hug him—he hadn’t realized just how much he’d wanted to see him.

“Hey! You weren’t in class so I thought I’d come check up on you. Are you sick or something?” Thace leaned in the doorway, smiling affably, his training bag slung over his shoulder.

“No—at least, I don’t think so,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s my birthday. I had to spend the day with my mother.” Absently, he rubbed at the inside of his elbow where it was bruised from her ungentle ministrations.

Thace’s eyebrows shot up, the grin spreading further across his face. “It’s your birthday? Were you just not going to tell me?”

“I just… It didn’t occur to me that you’d be interested.” He glanced away, feeling self-conscious.

Thace laughed, rolling his eyes. “Oh please. So where’d you go? Were you doing something cool?”

“Not really,” he snorted. “It was more like spending all day at the doctor’s office.” _If the doctor had a dozen creepy assistants with no faces._ He wandered over to the sofa and dropped down into the cushions. “Anyway I was tired after, so I was just sleeping.”

“Well that’s, uh, a different way to celebrate.” Thace settled down on the seat next to him, leaving his satchel on the floor.

“Clearly you haven’t met my mother.” His lips twisted into a wry smirk.

“I guess not,” Thace chuckled. “Hey, I have a few doboshes before I have to get home; want me to comb out your hair?” He patted his lap, an informal invitation.

Lotor’s heart soared, his smirk transforming into an eager grin. “Oh… sure.” He was trying his best to get over his anxiety about Thace’s penchant for such casual physical affection, and now he almost relished the dull ache that formed in his chest whenever he was close. He laid his head on Thace’s thigh, stretching his legs out across the couch, and sighed contentedly as Thace brushed the hair back from his face, claws trailing lightly over his scalp. He would have purred if he’d known how.

He sometimes imagined another reality where he had the courage to tell Thace how he felt, where Thace would pick him up in his big muscly arms and rake his hands through his hair… But it was best to shut those thoughts down before they could get out of hand. In this reality, Thace would just kindly--because he was always so fucking _nice_ \--tell him that he wasn’t interested. That would be the end of the lazy afternoons spent talking in his room. The end of the casual grooming sessions he had come to crave, where Thace would touch him like this, and where Lotor could run his fingers through Thace’s fur and listen to his wonderful purring. _No, this will have to be enough._

“You don’t talk much about your mom,” Thace mused aloud as he carded his fingers through Lotor’s hair. “Who is she, anyway? What’s she like?”

Lotor tensed involuntarily, curling his legs closer to his chest. “She’s… She works for my father,” he mumbled. “She’s sort of a scientist, and sort of… sort of a witch,” he finished in a whisper.

Thace’s hand froze as he processed this new information. “Your mother is… is the High Priestess?” he breathed, stunned.

Panicking, Lotor pushed himself up off Thace’s lap. He avoided looking at Thace; dreading what he might see in his expression. Fear? Pity? _I should have kept my mouth shut._ When he dared to glance up however, all he could read was surprise in Thace’s wide golden eyes.

“Wow,” he said, finally; then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes: “I guess that explains why you’re such a nerd.”

Relief washed over him, a weight lifting from his shoulders. “Oh, shut up,” he growled, and he punched Thace in the arm with feigned annoyance. A new worry occurred to him however, and he drew back, frowning. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone. If they find out I told you, I’ll get in trouble.” He bit his lip nervously as various unpleasant possibilities ran through his head. “You’ll get in more.”

“My lips are sealed,” Thace replied, clasping his hand solemnly over his breast. “Listen, I have to go, but we _are_ gonna do something for your birthday.” He got to his feet and poked Lotor playfully in the chest, grinning again.

“We are?” he blinked, uncertain.

“Yeah. Tonight.” He shouldered his bag, lingering in the doorway. “I’ll come back and get you around the 23rd varga.”

“What, after curfew?” he asked, skeptical.

Thace winked and flashed him a knowing smile. “Don’t worry about that. My mother’s got a card game tonight, and my father always goes to bed early when she’s out.” Before Lotor could argue any further, he ducked into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind him.

 

He had no idea what Thace might have in mind, but as the vargas crept by, his anticipation grew exponentially. There was a certain thrill that came with the prospect of doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and the idea of doing it with _Thace_ made it all the more attractive. He tried to pass the time by working on a military history assignment, but couldn’t maintain his concentration on the dry subject matter. Abandoning his schoolwork, he opened up a holonovel, but even that was hard to focus on. He found himself re-reading the same page over and over, distracted time and again by thoughts of Thace, until finally he was just watching the ticker count down the doboshes. When the door chimed at last, he practically vaulted off the sofa, nearly falling over his own feet in the process.

“Miss me?” drawled Thace as he breezed past him into the suite.

Lotor rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to seem _too_ eager, after all. “I’m just relieved you didn’t get caught already.”

Thace huffed a laugh, and set down his bag on the counter, the contents clinking softly as he did so. “You’d better be nice to me, or I won’t give you your present.”

“You… got me a present?” He blinked, bewildered. “Really? What is it? Can I see it?” Abandoning any pretense of indifference, he hovered at Thace’s elbow, trying to get a look inside the satchel.

“Stars, you’re impatient,” he chuckled. “Here.” He held out a small, irregularly-shaped package, wrapped in blue paper. “I hope it’s okay… I mean, I didn’t have time to get you a proper gift.” Thace rubbed at the back of his neck, ears twitching as he watched Lotor tear into the parcel.

Nestled inside the wrappings was a wooden figurine in the shape of a yupper, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. It was not the most delicately carved piece he’d ever seen; clearly shaped by hand rather than by machine. As he turned it over in his fingertips, something on the base caught his eye: Thace’s initials, scratched into the wood. He looked up slowly, his eyes widening as the realization dawned.

“Did you make this?” He cradled the suddenly precious item in his cupped hands, reverent. “For me?”

“Technically, I uh, made it a while ago,” Thace mumbled, shuffling his feet. “I just thought you might like it. Sorry if it’s dumb,” he added hastily, his ears giving another twitch.

“It’s not _dumb,_ ” he protested, as he clasped the little treasure against his his heart. His chest felt suddenly tight, his body too small to contain his feelings. As far back as he could remember, this was the first time anyone had given him something he felt was actually meant for _him,_ instead of someone they wanted him to be. “I love it.” If his voice wavered, Thace mercifully did not notice.

“Oh good.” Thace relaxed, puffing out a breath, and dazzled him with a smile. “Just keep it away from Haxus, alright?”

“I will,” he laughed, tucking it safely into a pocket. _I’ll keep it forever._

“Wanna see what else I brought?” He reached into the bag once more, and pulled out a half-full bottle of jade-coloured liquid.

“What is it?” Lotor leaned over, eyeing the container with suspicion.

“It’s”—Thace held the bottle up to the light and swirled it around, squinting at its contents; then pulled out the stopper and gave it a careful sniff—”it’s green,” he concluded, wrinkling up his nose. “I got it from my father’s stash. He has so much stuff in there, he’ll never miss this.” He shrugged off Lotor’s dubious glance. “Anyway it’s your _birthday!_ ” he wheedled. “We have to celebrate!” Grinning expectantly, he thrust the bottle into Lotor’s hand.

“I guess…” He was not at all certain he wanted anything to do with the stuff. For all he knew, it could be glass cleaner; but Thace seemed so pleased with himself, and he didn’t want to disappoint him—or worse, have him look down on him as some kind of weakling. Steeling his nerves, he tipped the bottle back and took a long swallow. The liquid was cloyingly sweet and tasted faintly of citrus. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected—until it hit the back of his throat with a painful, searing heat. Thace took the vessel out of his hand while he clutched at the counter for support, coughing and sputtering.

“It _burns!_ ” he wheezed. His eyes were watering, tears streaming down his face, but he was past caring about appearances now.

“I think it’s supposed to,” Thace suggested, with a sympathetic tilt of his head; but he hesitated a good few ticks before taking a drink himself. Almost immediately, his eyes flew wide open, and his ears shot up into stiff points. His nostrils flared as he hissed a breath in through his teeth. “Maybe it’s better if you have more of it,” he theorized once he’d regained his voice.

“Sure,” replied Lotor with a grimace.”I mean, if we’re going to poison ourselves, why stop halfway?”

It did go down more easily the second time, if only because he knew what to expect. As the burn in his throat faded, a pleasant warmth spread through his body, tingling in his fingertips, flushing his face. After the third, it wasn’t so bad at all. He felt lightheaded, but more relaxed than he could remember being in a very long time.

“So what’s the plan now?” He giggled at how strange his own voice sounded.

“I dunno,” laughed Thace. “To be honest, this was as far as I got.”

“You’re not very good at this,” he teased. He swatted Thace’s arm, then snickered when he swiped back at him and missed. “Wait”—he held up his hands to fend off another jab—”I have an idea… You like the arena, right?” He narrowed his eyes, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah!” Thace nodded with near-comical sincerity. “But there aren’t any matches on tonight, are there?” He frowned, his brows furrowed deep with concern.

“No, but we could go down into the pit. Look at the weapons and stuff.” Thace’s eyes lit up, just as he’d hoped they would, and Lotor felt his chest swell with pride.

“But how would we get in?” Thace wondered.

“I found out my father’s access code,” he bragged. Since Zarkon thought he was dumb as rocks, he didn’t take especially great pains to hide it; but Lotor preferred to let Thace assume he’d done something clever to figure it out.  “I can get us anywhere. _A-ny-where._ ” He repeated the last word in a conspiratorial stage whisper.

“That’s so _cool,”_ breathed Thace, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Let’s go then!” Without a second thought, he grabbed Thace by the hand and pulled him toward the door, eager to impress his friend.

 

At this hour, non-essential civilian areas of the Hub were all but deserted save for sentry patrols, and these were easy enough to avoid if you knew their schedule and patterns. Security around the arena complex, too, was low on non-match days, since the slave fighters were jailed elsewhere. Thace and Lotor slipped past the pair of drones outside the main doors to find one of the secondary entrances to the stands. Thace anxiously kept watch while Lotor keyed in the security code. His heart was racing and his head was swimming. It took him three tries, fumbling and swearing, to enter the correct sequence; but just a few doboshes later they were standing in the empty bleachers, looking down at the arena floor.

“Wow,” marvelled Thace, his deep voice echoing in the cavernous hall. “It looks even bigger with nobody here.”

“Let’s go down to the pit,” Lotor suggested excitedly, giddy and high on adrenalin. “We can see where they bring the gladiators in… and where they haul the dead ones out.” He flashed his teeth at Thace in a wicked smile.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of morbid”? Thace grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“No one else spends enough time with me to notice,” he retorted, laughing. He took Thace’s hand again, and led him down the steps through the stands. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world—he’d somehow forgotten that this should make him feel anxious and flustered. Thace didn’t seem to mind, either. _Maybe I should try to get more of that green stuff._

The arena floor lay a good twenty feet below the first row of seats, at the bottom of a sheer, sloped wall designed to keep combatants inside the ring, rather than escaping into the stands. Not as much thought had gone into keeping the audience out, however; Lotor slid easily down the incline to the ground. The floor was covered in an absorbent artificial mulch, presumably to make cleanups faster and easier. It softened his landing, though he’d certainly had more graceful ones. His leg twinged briefly where he’d broken it a few phoebs ago, but he shrugged it off.

He’d never been in the pit itself before. From this vantage point he could see countless scuffs and gouges in the wall—probably all that remained of some of the fighters who’d left them.

Thace stood next to him, taking in his surroundings with an awestruck look. “Is that where they bring in the Champion?” He pointed to a darkened arch, not far from where they stood.

Lotor nodded in response. The unlucky, unwilling challengers would be sent from the gate on the opposite wall. “Let’s check it out,” he suggested eagerly, wheeling around toward the alcove. The uneven ground made it tricky to walk properly, but it wasn’t far. A dim violet light flickered on overhead as they stepped through the arch, illuminating walls lined with weapons and armor. Most of it was archaic, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Another door, recessed in the back wall, led off into the bowels of the complex.

“This… is _awesome!”_ Thace gaped. He plucked a huge, unwieldy-looking axe from the rack, and slashed at the air with it, grinning gleefully. “I think this one still has blood on it!”

“Now who’s the morbid one?” laughed Lotor. He picked up a large, ornate helmet, and put it on his head. It was massively oversized, and slipped down over his eyes no matter how many times he pushed it back. The sheer ridiculousness of it gave him an idea. “Hey Thace, who am I?” He struck a pose with his hands on his hips, just like the absurd poster he’d seen so many times before. “The gladiator pits are no place for a prince of the Galra,” he intoned mockingly, as close to a baritone as he could manage, before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Thace guffawed, and held up his weapon in an ersatz salute. “Vrepit sa, my liege!” When they’d stopped laughing long enough to catch their breath, he gave the axe another lazy, contemplative flourish. “So… you wanna spar or something?”

“You dare to draw steel against your Emperor?” he hissed, feigning affront. The helmet tipped forward again, which somewhat lessened the effect. Lotor pulled it off and tossed it aside with a shrug. “I mean, sure.”

All of the weapons available were sized for a much larger person, but he settled on a long blade with a flared, hooked tip, like the one he’d seen the Champion use. The two of them squared off in the center of the arena, dwarfed by its towering columns. Lotor’s sword was clumsy as well as unfamiliar, with an odd sideways grip and heavily weighted end; and he struggled to achieve anything near his usual finesse. He felt slow, his reflexes dulled. Thace wasn’t faring much better—after a few doboshes of clumsy lunges and stumbling parries, they’d both had enough. Lotor threw his sword on the ground in disgust, and let himself drop to his knees. His body suddenly felt very heavy, even without the ungainly blade in his hand.

“These weapons,” he panted, “are _stupid._ ”

“Yeah… They kind of are,” Thace laughed. He set his axe aside, and padded over next to Lotor. “What do you want to do instead?”

“Uhhh…” Lotor tried to stand, but his legs didn’t quite get the message, buckling underneath him so that he toppled face first into Thace. He caught Lotor under the arms, staggering unsteadily himself. Lotor’s head was spinning madly now, but hanging half-limp in Thace’s arms, he didn’t mind so much.

“Are you alright?” Thace asked, his voice wavering with concern.

“I’m fine,” Lotor mumbled, his face still mashed against Thace’s chest. “I’m _great_ .” He sighed happily. _Better than ever._ He felt so warm and content, there was nowhere in the universe he wanted to be; although it might have been nice to have the _option_ of standing under his own power.

Thace made a little huffing noise that might have been either affection or exasperation as he lowered Lotor back to the ground. Lotor leaned his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes to stave off the vertigo. “Thace,” he murmured, half to himself. His tongue was thick and uncooperative, but he still savoured the name. “Thaaaaace.”

“Hmh?”

“You’re my best friend, Thace.” Suddenly he was overwhelmed by his own feelings; warmth and affection swelling in his chest, cracking him open from the inside. “My _best friend,_ ” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion.

Thace put his arm around Lotor’s shoulder, and hugged him tightly against his side. “And you’re mine,” he said, a low rumble edging his words.

“There’s...there’s nothing that would change that, right?”

“No way. Never!” Thace shook his head insistently.

Lotor drew back just enough to look at him, willing his bleary eyes to focus on his face. He searched his expression for any uncertainty or guile, but Thace was an open book, wide eyed and earnest. Lotor’s heart raced, drumming against his ribs. The faint hope he hadn’t dared to nurture flared into a blaze of longing. _Maybe, maybe…_ He took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady himself.

“Thace… Do you think you could ever like”— _there’s no going back now_ —”I mean, ever be interested in someone who’s not...a girl?”

Thace blinked, his eyebrows tilting together as he tried to process the question. “Uh, I dunno,” he stammered, fighting back a nervous giggle. “Like who?”

Shaking, Lotor laid his hand over Thace’s. His chest felt ready to explode; sweat prickled under his collar. He swallowed hard, and looked up at Thace, wide eyed and hopeful. “Someone like...me?”

Thace’s jaw fell open. It was almost the same dumbfounded expression he’d had when Zarkon had shown up unannounced. He didn’t pull his hand back though; didn’t push Lotor away. Lotor leaned in, curling his fingers over Thace’s, until he was close enough to taste Thace’s breath, and fill his lungs with his scent. Time slowed, and his vision narrowed until everything else faded away. He shifted forward ever so slightly—or maybe Thace did—just enough to barely brush their lips together.

This was it, his one perfect moment, everything he’d wanted for _phoebs_ now. Blood roared in his ears; deafening, pounding, like...footsteps? Like a great many heavy-shod footsteps…

_“PRINCE LOTOR.”_

Lotor turned, horrified, toward the sound of Nartok’s voice. His vision followed a tick later. The monitor was shaking with fury, their eyes bulging out like egg yolks. Half a dozen sentries filed in through the champion’s gate and formed up around them.

“You!” They jabbed a stubby, clawed finger through the air, pointing at Thace. “Get away from the Prince!” Thace reacted as if he’d been slapped, scrambling backward with his ears pinned flat against his head. Reflexively, Lotor reached after him, but lost his balance and fell face first into the mulch. Before he could push himself up, he felt cold metal fingers digging into his arms, pulling him back.

“Return the Prince to his quarters,” Nartok ordered.

“No! Let go of me you metal fucks!” Lotor flailed against the sentries’ grasp, trying to wrench free, but his limbs refuse to cooperate. He couldn’t get his feet under him, and he was reduced to kicking ineffectually at the mulch on the floor. He caught one last glimpse of Thace, staring with slack-jawed horror, as the drones dragged him away. _What have I done?_

 

The following several vargas were some of the most unpleasant of Lotor’s life. Already sick and miserable, he was forced to endure interminable angry tirades from Nartok and his mother. His father, it seemed, was too disgusted even to bother yelling at him. They went on and on, and throwing up all over Nartok’s boots was only the smallest of consolations... Lotor was not taking his duties and position seriously. He was not behaving in a manner befitting a prince. An embarrassment to the Empire. Associating with reprobates. Apparently his parents had decided Thace was not the positive influence they’d been hoping for.

Worse than all the lectures was the fear that came, as his head cleared, that he might have destroyed his friendship with Thace. True, he hadn’t _seemed_ upset when Lotor had tried to kiss him; but then neither of them had been thinking straight. Maybe he’d just been too stunned to say anything. He probably wasn’t too happy about all the trouble Lotor had gotten him in, either. Lotor’s stomach was in knots; he felt sick all over again whenever he thought about it. He needed to see Thace again; maybe he could fix things so they could go back to the way they were before—anything more than that, he didn’t even dare to contemplate.

Confined to quarters except to attend classes, Lotor was crawling the walls counting the vargas until the next weapons training session.

But Thace was absent from class his first day back. And the day after that. Lotor’s heart sank, his hopes wilting. Had Thace transferred to another group to get away from him? The instructor claimed not to know where he was, but Lotor was certain she was lying.

On the third day, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Instead of returning directly to his rooms, he made his way to the cadets’ mess hall. If he got caught, well… it wasn’t as though things could get much worse.

It was a peak hour, and the hall was predictably crowded. Lotor shifted his bag on his shoulder, fiddling with the strap as he scanned the room. There was no sign of Thace. Dismayed, he was about to turn and leave when he noticed Rexin and Vola, sitting with another girl at a table in the corner. Thace had always been friendly with them—maybe they knew where to find him.

Lotor wove his way through the press and noise, keeping a sharp eye out for potential trouble. The mess was notorious for its poor supervision, and he’d had his share of bad experiences. He noticed Sendak and Haxus across the hall, but they seemed to be absorbed in conversation with a gangling older boy. Lotor put his head down and hoped their attention wouldn’t shift his way.

The girls were chatting casually about something, but he didn’t catch the subject—they fell silent when they noticed him standing there. The one he didn’t know, a square-jawed girl with long fleshy tendrils hanging from her crest, glared at him stone-faced.

“You can’t sit here,” she deadpanned.

Lotor scowled back at her. “I wouldn’t _want_ to,” he snapped. He didn’t want to show weakness. “I’m just looking for Thace.”

“Well as you can see, he’s not here,” sneered Rexin, baring her teeth as she leaned over the table.

Lotor balled his hands into tight fists, but he didn’t have a fight in him anymore. He wouldn’t find any help here, and he didn’t know where else to look. “Fine. Never mind,” he muttered. Deflated, he turned to leave; only to run straight into Kiana.

“Watch where you’re going,” she hissed, drawing back from him as though he had something contagious.

On another day he would have had a sharp retort ready; but today he had nothing at all. Crushed under the weight of his despair, he mumbled an apology and retreated.

 

His quarters were empty except for Kova, for which he was grateful. He couldn’t have stomached another lecture; he just wanted to be alone with his misery. “It’s just you and me, cat,” he muttered. Kova blinked slowly in his direction.

With a heavy sigh, he tossed his bag onto the floor; then swore when half the contents spilled out. Apparently he hadn’t fastened it properly. As he crouched to pick up the mess, something out of place caught his eye—a small square of folded paper. Frowning, he picked it up and turned it over in his fingertips. He could only think of one way for it to have gotten into his bag—but why would Kiana pass him a note, unless… Lotor fumbled the paper open, hands shaking. His heart soared as he recognized the penmanship… then sank as he read the words.

 

_“Lotor—_

_Everything is all mixed up in my head since the other night. I don’t know… anything? Except I wish I could see you and talk to you for real, but my parents won’t let me. We’re being transferred off the Hub soon and I don’t know_ _if_ _when I’ll see you again. I’m sorry. I’ll miss you a lot. I won’t ever forget about you._

_Yours always,_

_  
_ _Thace”_

 

He sank down onto the sofa, holding the letter with numbed fingers. He felt gutshot. Bleeding, poisoned. Thace was gone. Lotor would never see him again. _Gone forever, because of me._ Tears pricked at his eyes, and spilled down his cheeks. His hands curled involuntarily into fists, crumpling the edges of the paper.

 _No. Not because of me. Because of_ them. His grief grew sharper, and hardened into rage. He hadn't done anything to deserve this, and neither had Thace; he was done feeling sorry for himself. He stood up, dashing the tears from his eyes. He would not give Thace up without a fight.

Having spent all his life on the Hub, Lotor knew all of the less-used paths, all the best ways to get places he wasn’t supposed to be. He knew he was being watched, but now that he was clear-headed he easily shook off Nartok’s tails. There was no way he’d let himself be caught before reaching his objective: the Imperial throne room.

His father’s great hall was massive and cavernous, an ostentatious waste of space. The approach to the throne seemed miles long, designed so that supplicants to the Emperor would have to bear the weight of his gaze for doboshes before even getting close enough to speak. There was only one entrance, no way to approach him unannounced. After barreling past the guards, Lotor has to face not only that baleful stare, but those of his mother and the officers the Emperor had been receiving.

“Lotor,” Zarkon growled, narrowing his eyes. His voice was a gravelly rumble of displeasure.

“You bring him back!” Lotor launched without preamble. His body was taut with anger, his hands shaking. “You’re ruining my life! You can’t just _do_ this to me!”

Zarkon rose from his throne, towering above Lotor. Lotor glared back, his chin stuck out defiantly. This time, he refused to be cowed. The officers awkwardly shuffled back, shrinking away from the confrontation.

“ _I_ will do as I please,” the Emperor boomed. “ _You_ will do as you are _told,_ and behave in a manner appropriate to your station.”

“You don’t _own_ me!” Blind with fury, he lunged unthinking at his father. Without flinching, Zarkon caught him by the neck and lifted him off the floor, his hand as cold as corpseflesh as he squeezed the breath from Lotor’s throat.

“Yes, I do.”

Lotor clawed ineffectually at Zarkon’s arm as his vision began to dim. Desperate, he turned his eyes toward his mother—surely she would do _something_ to intervene—but she only looked disappointed. His strength ebbed away, and the next thing he knew he was lying on the cold metal floor, gasping frantically for air.

His father was seated on his throne once more, looking down at him as though he was something Kova had thrown up on the rug. “Lieutenant Raht,” he rumbled, “remove this _child_ from my presence.”

Beaten and exhausted, Lotor could do little to resist as his father’s man picked him up by the waist, slung him unceremoniously over his shoulder, and carried him out of the throne room.

Later, as he brooded over his humiliation, Lotor he vowed never to forget the officer’s face. Raht, Nartok, and above all, his parents… One day they would _all_ pay for this indignity. Whatever Zarkon and Haggar wanted him to be, whatever _use_ they envisioned for him; he swore that he would have no part of it.

Not ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come cry with me about these two on [tumblr!](http://lotors-saltwife.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you're looking for more Thotor pain, the story continues in ['Don't Look Away'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128557)...

**Author's Note:**

> I did a little illustration to go with this fic, [here. Come flail with me ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11935407)[on tumblr!](http://lotors-saltwife.tumblr.com)


End file.
